The Inner Critic

I searched with great care for one image that could represent that loud nagging voice of the inner critic. I found five images and decided that each could represent the critic. I am staying with this idea as each one has something to say and can contribute and / or not contribute. The important connection here is they dwell in separate houses. Perhaps this is the problem - I believe by interrogating the five into one, they become contained into one house, they have some sort of sense of belonging, and can learn to live together in an orderly fashion. It will not be an easy task for myself or for them, but it can be done with hard work.The tiny child surrounded by a protected ring of flowers, represents me. The flowers will protect the child from the negative voices. The flowers are forever in bloom, large and sweet smelling. Their scent can become a distraction.

The Frightening Five

Bronte is boldly suspicious. Her elegant, black hat always covers one eye. Her impudent ways concern other people who dare to venture into my life. She whispers loudly - who are they?, what do they want?, where do they come from?, why have they chosen you? She is confidently assertive that another cannot just like me. Her whispers are about motive and her whispers keep me from connecting to others. She keeps one standing to the stand, forever a lurker. Her spirit is plucky, well marked,and strong.

Belenda is constantly disoriented and wishes to remain so. She speaks in monotones and insists in keeping tidy all through the day. She fluffs the pillows, straightens rugs, the inside of cabinets, files paper and keeps a wet mop handy in the kitchen pantry at all times for spills. She startles me with constant radiant overtures of house keeping chores. She believes this is all there is. She can overpower one with knowledge concerning the medical reasons to clean, clean, clean. Her spirit is a bright confusing light. After all cleanliness is next to Godliness.

Bobbie is eccentric, always uneasy. She is loud, very good at barking orders and threatening in spirit. Her life consists of if's only's. She always wants to be first. She demands a curious attention. She wears an armor - layering steal like material upon her body for affect. Her step is heavy. She rarely smiles and when she does it is with gritted teeth. Her eyes framed in large, plastic red glasses are a symbol of force, pushing them up upon her nose in a controlling manner. She is very curious about my avoidance.

Brandi has taken on the role of tough girl. She believes in the physical. Her voice is twangy in pitch. She addresses me with, Hey you - She is no frills, only do what one has to do. She enjoys sitting on kitchen counter , being in the way, and spouts on and on speeches that are vaguely reminiscent of Gloria Steinmen and Sharon Stone. These quirky remarks that are true in theory but prove poor results when put into practice.

Brunhilde aka Blair is ancient and forever young in a physical sense. Her eyes are the color the blue, green sea, just a moment before sun set. She walks with grace and ease. Tapping her umbrella, a constant ticking sound follows her. Her petite draw string bag contains secret stones with ancient messages written upon them. She tries to pass them to me throughout the day. Her voice is the sound of an incoming tide. She wants to analyze each thought I have. She wears a necklace of evidence just above her heart. She walks the plain, in seeking answers. She views the earth from a cliff, forever feeling superior. All is written in stone and cannot be changed. Nothing should be changed. Her spirit is the past ...

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